


Untitled Demon Story

by CaffeinaShips



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Sam and Dean mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:44:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinaShips/pseuds/CaffeinaShips
Summary: A demon has made herself comfortable in a little town when the Winchesters show up. Will her escape plan pay off?





	Untitled Demon Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly story from the perspective of a demon confronted with the Winchesters.

Part of what makes Hell so particularly nasty is that it doesn’t just strip you of your humanity, it strips you of the truth of the life you lived. The torture and the torment, the relentless misery, the bottomless cruelty, they eat away at your ability to remember the feeling of being loved, or the feeling of receiving a kindness. You remember your life, but as a twisted version of what you lived. Hell leaves you with a sense of humor, but it’s a twisted sense of fun based on mayhem and the pain of others. 

This particular demon could remember a great number of individual events from her life. She remembered her parents, she remembered her friends. But all of the memories were of let down, disappointment, and anger. The joy of life burned away long ago leaving an emptied out hollow version of itself.

She especially remembered crying in a Dunkin Donuts, her last five dollars changed into a cup of coffee and a bagel, clutching a rejection letter from her dream job. Passing the bar hadn’t meant much in a city saturated with Law schools and fresh lawyers willing to push themselves beyond human means. Now she was broke with no job prospects, student loan bills, and a comfy little basement room with her parents who should have divorced a decade ago. The simmering resentment oozed through the floor into her cramped, damp space and slowly drove her mad. Ironically, at the time she would have said it was hell. She had no idea.

When a kind looking young guy in a Harvard sweatshirt sat across from her while she cried into her tepid coffee she hardly looked at him. When he flashed red eyes at her and promised her 10 years as a renowned, hugely successful, highly paid lawyer he had her full attention. For the low low price of her soul of course, but she figured FedLoan already owned her soul, so what’s a soul to an unemployed lawyer anyway? 

Within days she was able to put the conversation out of her mind. Her dream job accepted her after all and offered her housing as part of the package. It was simple to convince herself that she was succeeding on her own merits. She had always been creative on her feet, always been witty, always been good at quick thinking in a crisis. These same skills might have served her well working in an Emergency Room instead of a Board Room, or a Court Room, but a board room was where she wanted to be. 

The same creativity and innovative thinking that made her a star lawyer made her an excellent demon. In Hell the only fun to be had was in physical torture, which frankly got a little boring sometimes. Every demon wanted to escape hell and get on earth, both because Hell sucks and because there’s so much more opportunity to enjoy evil. Creativity knew no bounds earthside. 

Currently this demon wasn’t even physically hurting people. At least not generally. She’d taken over the body of a Middle School principal in a quaint little New England Farm and Lake town not far from where she went to college. She’d barely hurt anyone. But she’d started several affairs with parents, pitted groups of kids against each other, got several school board members embezzling school funds, and raised the crime rate of the whole town. Sure, she’d also gotten both the library book club and the PTA into witchcraft and then created a rivalry between them, but mostly she wasn’t even using the Supernatural. She'd even orchestrated a stabbing at the town pumpkin festival that couldn't be traced to her. She had plans. She might run for mayor.

But now here she was, relaxing in her living room drinking a warm mug of witch’s blood she’d been saving for a special occasion, reading Gone Girl and laughing her ass off, when the Goddamn Winchesters busted through her door spritzing Holy Water everywhere and spouting off Latin. The LAST thing she was interested in was getting exorcised back to Hell. She managed to stagger into her kitchen and bail on this body and this sweet life and get out just in time. 

Now what? She needed an earthly body ASAP, but anyone she chose in this town would be potentially under scrutiny from the Winchesters. Where could she hide until this blew over? Her demonic perception picked up on something nearby. A spark of something malevolent. Something not human, but maybe a low IQ monster, or a high IQ animal. Something habitable, if not ideal. She flew into it immediately without another look.

The change of perspective was disorienting at first. Nothing in this body felt familiar. She was low to the ground, much shorter than a human, and all the body parts felt in the wrong place. Turning her head felt weird, and her vision was distorted. Her feet felt huge, but her legs felt so short. She couldn’t locate any hands. Looking around she observed grass and sand and water. The familiar landscape resolved itself into the local park she would often go to for a picnic lunch. As a demon human she liked to sit at the picnic tables and watch the families and make notes for future anarchy, and throw bread to the geese who terrorized the children. 

Is that… Could it be…? The realization hit her like a slice of bread to the beak. Looking around her she saw a two-ish year old playing by the edge of the water just a few feet away. She turned to yell in his direction

“HONK!”

He startled and stumbled backward and fell into the water. She watched delightedly as he flailed around and for a beautiful minute she thought he might drown before a woman wearing professional pants and high heels ran straight into the lake and fished him out. Goose Demon turned and waddled away from the crying child, her feet slapping satisfyingly on the grass, her tiny head swiveling to survey the park. On impulse she grabbed a set of keys out of an unguarded purse to test her new beak. She flung them easily into the water. She wouldn’t have planned for it, she wouldn’t have predicted it, but she was pretty sure she was going to really love being a goose. Flying was going to open up worlds for her. For now at least this was going to work out just fine. And the Winchesters would never find her!

**Author's Note:**

> This was for SPNColdesthits. The challenge was write a story from the perspective of the monster. If you haven't checked out coldest hits you absolutely should!
> 
> Also, check out Untitled Goose Game. Very good evil fun!


End file.
